Death Comes Quickly
by Shayde703
Summary: The point to Life is Death. Yassen's point of view leading up to when he kills Ian Rider. first ARfic. COMPLETED!CHAPTER THREE UP! REVIEWS NEEDED!
1. The Assignment

**This is my first Alex Rider fan-fic, no flames please. I won't do the whole disclaimer thing, we all know the drill. You give reviews, I write. **

**Death Comes Quickly**

**The point to life is Death.**

**Prologue**

I am a wanted man. A free man, but a wanted man. Some people say I am heartless, some say worse. But no matter how many people I kill, I still have a heart.

**Chapter1:**

**The Assignment**

Dawn found Yassen sitting on the end off his bed, deep in thought. One thought in particular. When he was just beginning his training, on his first assassination assignment in the Amazon. By the end of the assignment he was in debt to John Rider. A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts. His head flicked to face the door as one of the guards that dotted the SCORPIA compound opened the door and stepped inside.

"What?" Yassen asked.

"The top wants you." The guard said.

By 'the top' he meant the board members, the heads of SCORPIA. He stood, and stepped out of his small cabin. The guard followed him to the main building, were he told Yassen to go inside, as there was another guard at the doors of the board room. He stepped inside into the chill airconditioned building, and walked towards the board room door. The guard stationed at the door stopped him, and radioed inside. A response came, mixed with the static. But Yassen heard the answer clearly.

"Let him in." the guard opened the door and let him through. He stepped though the heavy wood doors of the boardroom and into chilling silence. He took the spare seat, allocated, he presumed, for him. He tilted his head to look up the table at the man sitting at the head of the table. The man skimmed the last sentence of the paper in his hands, then looked up to address the board members and Yassen.

"We have an assignment for you. Darrius Sayle, a man who has invented a super computer called Stormbreaker. The MI6 is suspicious." The man stated. Another board member spoke up.

"You know the rules, anyone suspicious, find out what they came for, then kill them." He said.

"Sounds simple enough." Yassen felt no need to waste words. The first board member spoke again.

"Your flight leaves at four pm. You will arrive at Edinburgh airport. From there, you will be taken to Sayle's compound, in Cornwall, were you will spend the duration of the assignment. You will be his head of security. It seemed fitting. You have the facts, you may leave." The man waved his hand at the door, indicating that he left quickly. Yassen stood, and walked out of the boardroom, back into the main building.

When Yassen got back to his room, he pulled a metal case from under his bed. He flicked open the clips, and opened the case, revealing an assortment of weapons. Two slim guns and a larger model with a silencer, both with ample ammunition. He lifted that compartment, and checked that the arrangement of knives was still in place. The deadly blades glistened in the low light of the afternoon. He nodded and replaced the compartment, and closed the case, flicking the locks back into place. He pulled another case from under his bed, and packed it with clothes. Yassen grabbed his black jacket of the end of his bed, slung it over his arm and picked up the two cases. HE walked out of the doors, meeting the two guards who escorted him to SCORPIA's private airport.

A small Cessna waited for him. As per usual, only Yassen, the pilot and two guards boarded the plane. Once they were seated, the pilot radioed in to the control tower for clear takeoff. A moment later. The small plane lifted off the tarmac and headed towards London.

"A long flight. Better settle in." the pilot, a SCORPIA agent, commented to his passengers. Yassen peered out his window and watched as the airport faded to toy sized buildings and small glints of silver. He then settled back into his seat and, like all assassins, took this chance to sleep. Yassen guessed that he would be up the next night, being showed around the compound and organizing the security to his liking. He shifted again, then settled into a deeper sleep.

He awoke as the plane banked to land at Edinburgh, and shook his head to clear sleep away from his brain. The wheels touched the tarmac with a slight bump, and the small plane slowed, just behind the main buildings. A grey Prado was waiting off the side of the tarmac, presumably from Sayle's compound. The pilot opened the door, and stepped back as Yassen jumped out of the plane. One of the doors of the four-wheel drive opened and a man dressed in casual clothes stepped out, and walked over to Yassen.

"Lets not waste time on formal greetings, Sayle's waiting. He doesn't like to wait." The man said. He seemed almost scared of the thought of what Sayle would do if they were late. Yassen nodded, and walked over to the car. He opened the door, and slid into the car. The air inside smelt of clean leather, like a new car. It was too clean for any ordinary car, it must only be used when Sayle went out of the compound. The car started into smooth motion and slid out the gates without questioning. They drove until they reached a small, out of town private airstrip. Another small plane was waiting. Yassen was tiring of planes. The two guards parked the car in a garage, and accompanied him on this flight.

_That must be the car they use to pick up people from around England, that's why it's used so little._ Yassen thought. This flight was quicker, and they landed on an airstrip inside the compound. They walked over to the gates, were three guards with loaded machine guns were standing. Seeing the other two with Yassen, they let him through. The men lead him down a hallway, just of were the gates were, and stopped at the first room they came to.

"That's your room, Sayle said unpack, and meet him at the guardhouse in ten minutes." The first man said. Then he turned and walked away.

"Another guard will collect you when it is time." The last man said, then turned and followed the first one.

Yassen opened the door to a small, bare room, decorated with only a bed, a wardrobe and a small table at the head of his bed. Yassen slid the silver case under the bed and the other case he left, packed at the foot of his bed. He then inspected the rest of the room. The bedside table was made of a dark plastic, as was the wardrobe. He opened the doors of the wardrobe. Inside was just a plain ordinary wardrobe, with a set of draws put inside. He closed the wardrobe just as someone knocked on his door. Without waiting, the guard slung the door open. Yassen strode past him into the hallway. The guard started off towards the on base warehouse.

Yassen followed, and stepped into the chill of the evening air. The sun was just setting, dying the top of the barb wire fences gold and red. Gentle pattering on the roof of the covered walkway between the building and the guard house signalled rain, maybe to get heavier. As they entered the guard house, they were met by a man with a slightly balding line of dark hair, and cold, grey eyes. He was dressed in an expensive suit, with black shoes so well polished they shone like mirrors. He was only as tall as Yassen's shoulder, but he still emitted an air of extreme wealth.

"Welcome!" he exclaimed. "I trust your flight was comfortable?" Yassen nodded. The man continued at a pace not normal of conversation. "I am Darrius Sayle, as you may have guessed." He chuckled, seeming at the last statement. "Well, lets not stand here gibbering, let me show you around!" he then started off through the rest of the guardhouse, and out the other door, towards the on base warehouse. They stepped through the door into what looked like an un-loading doc. Sayle waved his hand towards the room.

"This is where everything we use to build our software comes in. regular guards are allowed in here, but no further. They stepped into the next room, much larger, filled with boxes and crates on shelves, some unpacked on tables.

"Now, this is where we sort the cargo. Only guards appointed by me, and with a pass signed by me, are allowed in here. Any other guard caught in here is fired." Sayle continued towards a staircase leading underground. They entered an underground city, it seemed, filled with machines humming, and workers in white suits. Doors led to many other rooms, but those Sayle seemed uninterested in.

"This is the main building, the real place of interest. This is where we build our wonderful computers. Only the workers and extremely privileged guards are allowed here." Sayle led them on a full circuit of the room, before heading back up the staircase, and through the upstairs warehouse. They walked back through the guardhouse, and into the building where Yassen's room was. The other three doors in the building were open. Sayle ignored the first two, and went straight to the one next to Yassen's. They walked into surveillance room.

"This room needs no explanation, and all guards are allowed in here." Sayle said. They walked out of that building and towards the gate. There, under the light of the huge spotlights that shone from on top of the gate house, Yassen could see the airstrip stretching into the darkness.

"At the end of there airstrip, there's another guardhouse, only with three guards, and a communication rooms for the comings and goings on the airstrip." Sayle said. "Well this concludes the tour, I'll leave you to organise the guards." Sayle continued back through the complex to his house. Yassen turned to the guard that had accompanied him on the tour.

"Is there a way we can call together all the guards at the gate?" He asked. The man nodded, and radioed out to all the guards.

"All squads report to gate ASAP. All guards." Yassen heard mutters and bangs coming from the guardhouse, and soon forty guards stood in line before him. The guard that stood beside him handed him a roster. It read that two guards patrolled each stretch of fence, and four stood the gate the rest helped with delivery. Yassen stood in thought for a moment then straightened up.

"Right, here it is, I want two guards patrolling the fence between each flood-light. I want the guards who are stationed at the airstrip guardhouse to have two guards patrolling around there, and one on communications. I want five on the gate. The rest help with the deliveries. Those who would usually be on patrol now, start the new roster." Yassen saw disbelief in some guards, some anger. That he had to fix. "Any one who doesn't like this can take it up with me. Dismissed." Immediately, seventeen guards broke away from the group and began the patrols and new roster. The rest started back to the guardhouse. Yassen faced the guard beside him. "When is the next delivery?"

"11:30 tonight." The man said. Yassen looked at the clock on the wall. It read 9:25.

"Good, dismissed until then." The man gratefully walked towards the guardhouse. Yassen followed. He stopped at surveillance and checked everything was working. He told one of the guards stationed there to wake him at 11:00, and continued back to his room, were he slept until the guard woke him.

Yassen stood, and pulled his coat on, opening the door. The guard handed him a radio, then walked back into the surveillance room. Yassen checked the radio was on and walked towards the warehouse. There was a squad of ten guards waiting there. The radio in Yassen's hand crackled;

"He's cleared, and coming." Soon, the truck was backing into the open door of the un-loading room. Yassen gave orders to unpack the crates and boxes, and leave them on the shelves for the sorters.

The night wore on, with day dawning to find Yassen heading back to his room after another delivery. All up, he had had only four hours sleep. He planned to sleep for another two hours. He got to his room, and slung his jacket over the end of his bed. Without further notice, he collapsed on his bed and was soon deep asleep.


	2. Discovered

**Sorry it took so long. It's a little rushed, but I need reviews! FLAMES AND ALL!**

**Chapter 2: **

**Discovered**

Yassen peered out his room window, his gaze sweeping the space between the building and the perimeter fence. After a minutes wait, two guards walked past the inside of the perimeter fence, stopped at the corner floodlight, and turned around. Yassen was content with the work he'd done on the guard roster. He had been here only a week, and he had pulled all the guards firmly under his control. He walked out of his room, to the surveillance, and checked that everything was on track. The guards positioned there acknowledged him with a nod or a brief glance, but continued on their work. Yassen seemed satisfied, and walked out of the building, towards the main gate.

"Everything on track?" He asked the guard stationed at the gatehouse.

"All's going well. Nothing to unusual." He replied.

"Good." Yassen said. He turned and walked back towards his room. As he did, something glinted, catching the edge of his vision. His head snapped towards outside the fence. His piercing blue gaze swept the surroundings. No cars ever came up here except the delivery trucks. They were too high up and on the wrong angle to catch light reflected off boat windshields. Yassen looked closer.

There!

Hidden behind some bushes, and on a slight rise, came the glint of binocular lenses. Yassen turned and walked purposely back to the gate.

"Double the security." He ordered. The guard gave him a puzzled look, but obeyed.

"Double roster. Repeat double roster." The guard radioed it all over the complex. Soon, ten guards stood the gate, and patrols were where given orders to increase checkpoints and radio in every ten minutes. Yassen walked back to where he had seen the observer. They had gone.

"Good luck getting in." He muttered, and continued back to his room. He grabbed the case from under his bed, and pulled out the gun with a silencer, slipping it under his pillow. What he didn't know was that the base was already infiltrated.

Yassen woke to the torrents of rain hitting the roof so hard it sounded like the rattle of machine guns. He lay still for a while, the silence of the night filled with the sound of the rain. Suddenly, the sound was broken by the tread of heavy boots outside his door. This was expected, but judging by the pace, whoever this was, they didn't want to be found. Yassen pulled the gun from under his pillow, and tucked it on his belt. He grabbed his coat off the end of his bed.

Opening the door and peering out into the hallway, he caught sight of the figures dressed like a guard, exiting the building. Yassen followed. The man slipped hurriedly through the guardhouse, and towards the warehouse. He slipped into the warehouse, with Yassen just behind. The man walked hurriedly across the un-loading doc, towards the off-limits area. This was enough proof for Yassen.

"You! What are you doing?" He called, his voice echoing across the empty doc. The man froze, fear chilling the air around him. He turned his head, shock registered clearly across his face. His grey eyes were wide with shock, and a faint glimmer of recognition.

"I dropped my keys earlier, I was just getting them." He said, slowly, carefully. He picked up a set of key lying on a bench, and held them up for Yassen's inspection. "See?"

Yassen's eyes narrowed, but he flicked his head for the man to go. The man walked hurriedly back to the guardhouse. Yassen walked back to his room, deep in thoughts.

_He looked like- no, no relation, just my memory playing tricks. _Yassen argued with himself. But the man did echo some of John Rider in his face. Coincidence or just pure mistake? Yassen didn't know. He returned to his room, and fell into a shallow sleep.

Yassen kept a close watch on the man after that. Nothing unusual happened until a delivery a week later. Yassen was supervising another midnight delivery, watching as the guards un-loaded boxes and crates from the truck. The man was there, working as hard as any other guard, carrying boxes or crates. Every so often, Yassen would glance in his direction, and the man would sense his glance, working so he had his back to Yassen.

"All un-loaded!" called a voice from near the truck. Yassen's attention was directed at the truck, and at the guard that had signalled. The man, unnoticed by Yassen slipped in the door of the sorting room, towards the staircase.

"Good work. Dismissed." Yassen called. The men headed towards the guardhouse, or towards their next shifts. Yassen scanned the crowd for the man, and guessed that he was just out of view. Yassen started to walk back to his room when a noise behind him stopped him.

He immediately crouched behind a bench, out of view. The door handle of the storage room was turning. The door opened, and the man stepped out, shoving a scrap of paper into his pocket. Yassen stayed hidden as the man jogged back to the guardhouse.

_There is something not quite right here._ He thought, and walked back to the gates.

**Ian Riders POV**

That Yassen is on to me, he knows what I'm here for. I just have to stay low. Find out more, then get the heck out of here, before he murders me.

**A week later**

**Yassen's POV**

After another round of deliveries, Yassen was called to the underground base. Sayle was waiting at the bottom of the staircase.

"The security needs to be pushed up. We are approaching the launch of Stormbreaker. In another few weeks, we will launch. We need double the security. And we need it now. The loading doc is the only place in this building guards are allowed. The rest is strictly off limits!" Sayle was as strict as ever. Yassen walked back up the staircase, and towards the door. He stepped out into the silence of the loading doc, and walked towards the gates.

"Sayle wants a double security. His orders, not mine." Yassen knew the men hated double security. It meant longer shifts or hauling boxes for twice as long. Yassen checked the roster for the next delivery, and found he had almost a full four hours to spare. He walked back to his room, and slept for two of them. He got up with two hours for spare time and decided to check that everything was good to go. As he approached, a noise from inside triggered suspicion in his head. He opened the door slowly, and caught the man halfway across the room. He stepped quickly inside and called out.

"You can't have lost your keys again, now, can you?" Yassen said, though he said it softly, it rang through the silence of the room, low and cold. The man stopped, and turned to face Yassen.

"No, I haven't. My mate lost something in here. He reckons on of the sorter's might of carried into the other room. I was just going to check." The mans voice was even, not stiff or hurried as it might have been if the man had something to give away. Yassen knew not to trust the voice. He looked at the man's eyes and for an instant, his ice blue eyes bored into the storm grey of the mans. There he saw fear, more than he saw in any other guards, buried under the false cover of slight surprise.

"I'll get the sorters to bring up any lost items to the gatehouse. You can check in the morning. Now off you go." Yassen said, voice so low and cold that the air almost cooled around him. Then man almost jumped at the invitation to leave, and eagerly accepted his patrol. Anything to escape Yassen's presence and the stare of those cold, threatening, blue eyes. Yassen picked up the radio from his belt as it buzzed.

"Trucks up and coming. Open the doors." Yassen would have to wait to think, he had another delivery.

**Ian Riders POV**

He knows. He knows. How could I be so stupid! I was careless. Now.

**The next day**

**Yassen POV**

_That was it. That man must be interrogated. If nothing comes up, he is on strict watch. If even the slightest hesitation, he will be killed. But for now, I search his room. _Yassen thought. He ordered a special squad to accompany him to the man's room. He watched as they unearthed a mobile, a number of small weapons and a few other things. Yassen flipped the phone, and looked at the call record. The same number. He hit call, and waited. The other end picked up with a pre recorded message. Yassen only needed to hear the first two words.

"Report status." Yassen snapped the phone shut, and thought hard for a bit. SCORPIA wouldn't send an agent, that left only one thing. Yassen swore in Russian, and tightened his grip on the phone, wishing he could crush it.

"Capture him. MI6." Yassen rounded on the guards, who stood, shocked by the sudden order. Yassen glared at them, and threw the phone down on the bed. "NOW!" He shouted at them. Just then, the screech of tyres announced their 'to be' captive leaving. Yassen swore again, louder, and practically sprinted out of the building. A silver BMW was heading fast out the gates. He grabbed the radio as the car barged through the barrier, and radioed the gates.

"Send a chase squad! NOW!" he yelled.

The chase was on.

**What you think? Good? Crap? Tell me!**


	3. The Chase

**Chapter 3:**

**The Chase**

**Ian Rider's POV**

The buzz of motorcycles notified me of company.

"Great. All I need." Ian muttered. "But this is no ordinary man you're chasing. You forget that."

He passed his hand over the CD player in the car, and it swivelled to reveal a touch sensitive panel. Ian pressed a finger to the panel, activating the small missiles stored in the back of the BMW.

The missiles quickly found and locked the motorcycles heat and soon, the riders were faced with two flying explosives. They swerved to try and shake them, but the missiles closed in fast. Then hit.

The missiles exploded leaving nothing of the motorcycles but a smocking crater of tar and dirt.

"Told you so." Ian said, then gunned the car faster along the highway.

**Yassen Gregorvich's POV**

"What do you mean destroyed?!" I exploded at the guard who had brought me the news that his chase squad had failed. I swore for a bit in Russian. "If I have to do this myself, then I will."

I walked hurriedly towards my room. I whipped the two smaller guns from the case and tucked them in the holsters on my belt. I then headed back towards the airstrip.

I marched down the airstrip, towing a guard by his collar. The guard got the general drift, and jogged along beside me.

"Helicopter, now!" I growled. "I trust you know how to fly a helicopter?" The guard nodded. "Good, in."

The man jumped in, followed shortly by me. Soon, the sleek black craft rose into the air. I pulled the gun from my belt, and made sure it was loaded.

They flew over the wall of the compound, and towards the highway. Soon, the smoking crater of what had been the chase team was in sight.

"Can't be to far now." I said. I opened the storage cupboard, and selected a thick piece of rope that would normally tie the helicopter down in bad weather. I tied it in a slip knot around my ankles, securing the other end to a metal hook on the helicopter wall. I tested it, leaning against my weight against the hook. It held.

I peered out the windshield, and saw we were coming up on the silver BMW. I quickly devised a simple plan in my head.

"Go lower." I said. The guard dropped the craft until it was roughly ten feet above the car. We were still behind it.

"Match his speed." The pilot edged the chopper forwards until we were matching the car inch for inch.

"Keep the chopper steady. It'll jerk when I jump. Wish me luck." I muttered, then opened the jump door on the side. I jumped out of the chopper, into the rush of air below.

Then, time seemed to slow, almost stop.

I fell for a moment, and then the rope sprung taught, jerking the chopper a little. I hung beside the car now. The man turned his head, en did a double take. His pale eyes widened. I knew what he was seeing.

**Ian Rider's POV**

I heard the quick thud of a helicopter, and nudged the speed up. The chopper dropped to ten feet above me, and matched my pace. Then, something dropped from the sky to hang beside me. I glanced at it, then snapped my head back towards it, double take. Yassen Gregorvich hung beside me. He pulled two sleek silver guns from his belt, and aimed them at me. He hesitated, maybe taunting me, letting me stare into his cold, emotionless eyes, the eyes of my killer.

**Yassen Gregorvich's POV**

I hesitated, for a split second, then years of training took over, and I hardened my stare, and pulled the trigger. Two bullets exploded from the barrels of the guns, and sped the man to his death. I tucked the guns back in my belt, and climbed back up the rope.

Below me, the car swerved off the road, and into the trees lining the edge of it. I pulled myself from the frozen space below me, and into the helicopter. We then turned back towards base.

**Two days later.**

Yassen stood by his window, watching the sun rise. Only a day ago he had killed the man, not knowing who he was. He found out when the next day, he had killed Ian Rider, John Rider's brother. Yassen remembered now, that John had a son, Alex. When John had died, Ian took Alex in. now Ian was dead. He was now even more in debt to John.

He just thanked God Alex didn't know.


End file.
